Lost
by hitherelovely
Summary: It wasn't her fault that her car broke down right in the middle of nowhere, or that her cellphone didn't have reception. But what Momo Hinamori did blame herself for was trusting him.
1. The Unknown

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach, I swear! I also do not own the picture used for the cover!**

**Warning: This story rating has been raised to M**

**_l.o.s.t._**

**Lost © hitherelovely**

**Bleach © Tite Kubo**

**Chapter 1 – **

_"The Unknown"_

"Hello? Hello? Damn you, AT&T," Momo Hinamori groaned, cursing at her cell phone which was clutched in her grip. There was no reception, and she carelessly slugged her poor phone mercilessly into the passenger seat.

Momo felt her breath catch in her throat, and groaned, wanting to bang and knock her head against something…repeatedly. But of course, at that moment, it was impossible—unless she wanted to hurl her precious sedan through the forest and dense undergrowth completely surrounding her. If you were claustrophobic, surely you would've panicked and slipped into cardiac arrest by now. Fortunately for Momo, that wasn't the case.

The winding path that she had been driving on had come to an abrupt end and now nothing but a fading sun and stripped trees met her gaze.

"You are not lost," She grumbled to herself, her hands gripping tightly on the steering wheel. Her eyes were narrowed in determination. "You, Momo Hinamori, are not lost."

But if you saw how rocky and deserted the road she was on, you'd call her stupid and an idiot even, and then maybe you'd have enough time to get away before she kicked you in the shin.

Of course, Momo is not an idiot; somewhere far beneath the bottomless depths of her tremendously thick skull, she'd come to one realization: she was utterly and absolutely _lost_.

The day she admitted that was the day when hell froze over.

And to make matters worse, it seemed as though the sun was skipping, no—_running_, down the mountain, its cocky grin shining at her as more and more of its cheerful rays disappeared behind the mountains.

Momo sighed and ran a hand through her soft chocolate locks. She was supposed to meet her brother at his new house…an hour ago. After not visiting home for a couple months because of settling into her college dorm, Momo had promised her brother that she would stay for Winter Break. Would he report her to the police? _No, he'd be too furious to think, _she thought, rolling her pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to prevent a raging migraine from crashing on her, but it was no use. She briefly pondered if she had any Tylenol stuffed somewhere in her purse. She moaned, her eyes scanning the abandoned road ahead of her, filled with car-killing potholes, trenches and rocks.

Great. Just great.

_Come on, _she told herself, _it can't get that much worse, can it? _

But just as in those cliché movies, the light on her dashboard started blinking; it was the fuel gauge. Her hazel eyes widened and a string of "colorful" choice words escaped her lips.

And about a minute later, her car sputtered into painful croaks and stopped.

Right in the middle of god knows where.

**_l.o.s.t._**

Rich turquoise eyes blinked, the profound irises burned like underwater flames penetrating the coldest ice. Toshirou Hitsugaya glanced up, his gorgeous orbs piercing, even more so as they reflected off the sun setting in the mountains he was staring at. He allowed himself a small smile as he felt excitement growing in his veins. _It's almost dark… _He thought.

He was sitting on the roof of what looked to be an abandoned hotel. And it was. There was no "living" person, or thing inside, unless you counted the spiders and other creepy insects that had invaded the ancient building.

But something below caught his eye. A slim eyebrow rose as he saw a small car being shoved up a hill-the hill leading onto the hotel. A petite girl huffed frantically as she pushed to car up the hill.

Even from this distance, Toshirou could hear her words easily. "Damn," She spoke through gritted teeth and between inhales of air. "Didn't, think," She groaned, "That this…car was so…_heavy_!" She gave one final shove and the car lurched forward, no doubt on neutral. Her stunning russet eyes scanned the eerie and discarded motel, her cherry lips pulled into a tight line, and her face expressing extreme suspicion.

_Smart girl…_ Toshirou thought, a sinister smirk crawling its way onto his face. Her auburn hair was pulled back into a messy bun, a few coffee locks framing her light and pretty face. She placed her hands on her hips, like any other girl pouting over the destruction of her car. _Entertainment and food? Even better. _It had been a while since anyone _alive_ has visited.

He couldn't wait.

**_l.o.s.t._**

"Um…Hello?" Momo squeaked, looking at the looming hotel. She was immediately apprehensive and wary of it, but it was the only standing structure for miles around. It looked eerily vacant and unnervingly void of any human life. She leaned heavily against her car and sighed.

She groaned, brushing the annoying bang that always seemed to be in the middle of her face, back to the side.

"Anybody here? I really need help!" She called out, but was only greeted by silence. Her small mouth pulled into a scowl that could only be described as simply adorable. When no one replied, she shivered. The sun was descending quickly and it was mid-winter and already, she could see her breath as she exhaled.

"Of course. Knew I should've turned at that highway," She complained, inwardly cursing at herself. Sighing, she reached up and released her hair from the bun; it fell down in waves and reached a little beyond her shoulders.

And thus, she began walking towards the hotel.

**_l.o.s.t._**

It was dark and musty and it took every ounce of her willpower just to not run out of the scary place, screaming and crying like a terrified little girl.

She blinked, her eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness.

She'd taken her first step into the abandoned building and instantly cringed.

To begin with, the place was downright _nasty_. Mold was peeling off the walls, and some weird orange fungi were attacking the ceiling.

She gagged a bit.

Though it was better than freezing outside. To her surprise, the building was oddly warm and she was content to sit inside rather than outside.

But there were a couple of chandeliers decorating the ceiling, and the furniture was very regal-like. It was obvious that the place used to be gorgeous.

Momo took another step in, and blinked a couple times, her eyes finally adjusting to the dim light.

"Hello? Anyone here? I really need help," She called, knowing that there was going to be no answer.

However, when a figure appeared in the doorway in front of her, she stiffened, her eyes freezing into the size of dinner plates.

"Um, H-hi?" She squeaked, quieter than a mouse. The figure chuckled, his throaty voice soft as velvet sent shivers down her spine.

"Hello, there. You look a little…lost." The speaker looked up at her and flashed a smile.

Which revealed a lot of sharp, pointy teeth.

Momo shoved the yelp down her throat.

"Er, y-yeah, would you happen to have a phone on you?" She asked timidly. She felt caged, like he was some predator circling her, waiting to pounce and kill. Momo was convinced this stranger was either a rapist or some serial killer of sort.

He stepped out of the shadows, and she could hardly keep herself from gasping.

He had perfectly tousled white hair, which was really strange, accompanied with piecing teal eyes. He stood tall, a hint of arrogance in his stance, and he was beautiful—_too_ beautiful, which made him even more mysterious.

But what freaked her out the most was his teeth.

The canines were beyond the average length of a human's. They were sharp, almost like a feline's. She gulped and before she could ask, he turned around, motioning with a flick of his hand for her to follow. "There's a phone in the kitchen, is there anyone you could call?"

Momo nodded briskly, and then inwardly slapped herself, finally remembering her manners.

"Thank you so much, um, my name is Momo Hinamori," She said to him.

"There is _really_ no need to thank me, Miss Hinamori. I'm Toshirou Hitsugaya." Toshirou replied, flashing a short but stunning smile that left her breathless for a few moments. When he said this, he saw a glimpse of Momo's eyes widening and resisted the urge to cackle.

_This really isn't fair for her…_

**_l.o.s.t._**

It was, to say in the least, very awkward and silent. Momo cringed slightly, and then finally decided to make some conversation as they walked down the twists and turns of the old hotel.

"Em, so I guess this place used to be a…hotel?" She asked, timidly, her footsteps slapping against the worn floor loudly. He walked silently and she grimaced every time she stumbled or tripped in the dark hallways. The door behind them shut loudly and she flinched at the obnoxiously loud noise.

He gave no indication that he'd heard her speak but merely continued walking before saying, "Yes, this place used to be called, _The Lovely Night_…It was closed down about hundred years ago, my great-grandfather was the owner."

Momo nodded, the tension in the air lifting somewhat.

"Oh, well…It's gorgeous, or used to be anyways." She replied, glancing up at the cracked ceiling.

Toshirou chuckled, sounding somewhat dangerous, though the young girl didn't catch it. Momo peered up at the ceiling, dim gold blinked hazily back at her and she wondered what the place looked like before it became like _this_.

"Do you know why it closed down, Miss Hinamori?" He asked, a playing smirk crawling onto his lips. He veered to the right, and Momo followed him promptly.

The brunette shook her head before murmuring, "Um, no I do not."

He didn't reply, and they stepped into a completely black room. She blinked a couple times.

_Is this the...kitchen? _

"Hey, um…Toshirou? Are you sure this is the—AH!" She broke off her sentence with a shrill scream as the door behind them slammed shut. The room was completely dark and she couldn't see her own hand. She tried finding her tour guide, but even his shock of white hair had melded into the obscurity.

"T-Toshirou?" She stuttered, honey eyes wide in horror. She couldn't see anything and the striking teal-eyed boy had disappeared.

"Yes, Momo?" A silky voice whispered by her ear.

She shrieked and took a couple steps back, her body shaking, adrenaline shooting through her veins. "Toshirou? W-what're…you doing?" She stammered, her heart feeling like it was trying to escape her chest.

She heard a malicious chuckle beside her and stumbled to her left, before crashing onto the floor.

Whimpering slightly from the pain, she began backing up, shivers racking her body.

"Do you know why, Momo?" His velvety voice whispered behind her; Momo yelped, feeling his hot breath on her neck and tripping backwards. Immediately, she curled up into a ball, gasping for air.

"Why _The Lovely Night_, closed down?"

"I-I don't know!" She cried, thoughts of torture and murder wreaked havoc through her mind. Something as cold as ice brushed by her neck and she screamed, praying that he would just go away and leave her alone.

She suddenly felt a heavy weight on her and looked up, blue-green eyes glared back at her. Toshirou grabbed both of her wrists and with ease, locked them above her head.

"Vampires attacked the hotel and killed _everybody_," He said, smiling and looking at her through half lidded eyes.

"_Including me_."

Her blood ran cold and it abruptly became hard to breathe. What was he saying?

"W-what?" She croaked.

He leaned in closer, and she shrieked as she felt sharp teeth rip into the skin of her neck slightly.

"I think you know the answer to that, Momo." He murmured into her hair, inhaling her soft scent.

"Stop it! Leave me alone!" She yelled, trying to push up. It was useless, his hands were like steel. Jerking her foot back, she shoved it as hard as she could against his chest. Shockingly, he didn't even wince as her high-heeled shoes dug like a knife into him.

He leaned down closer, his teeth grazing the vein in her neck, and bit down. Her eyes snapped open and she kicked vigorously against him.

"_No!_ Stop it!"

Warm red liquid ran down her neck and she felt woozy as she realized it was blood..._Her _blood. Toshirou smirked as he licked his lips.

"Ah…Too bad you're going to die, you taste like honey."

She struggled, fought, kicked, even bit him as he continued his assault. But it was too much as the blood loss hit her like a wave and every breath became a challenge as she stilled.

Momo could hardly hear him, her eyes fighting to stay open as he drank her blood, slithering his tongue across the cut a couple times.

_Stop it! _She screamed at herself. _Get up! Get up! _

But her body wouldn't obey, and a few stray tears meandered down her face.

Toshirou stopped for a moment, gently licking her neck. "Oh, don't cry, I hate seeing girls cry. Don't worry, Momo, it'll all be over soon."

"Let me go…" She mumbled, her gaze drifting towards the stunning vampire.

He didn't.

Soon enough, her vision began to fade and her body felt weightless. Even his enchantingly sumptuous voice had all but melded into the background.

Had she died yet? Momo couldn't tell.

Honestly, she didn't even care, because by then, it felt like she was nothing, just aimless, floating.

That was when the screaming started.

**_l.o.s.t._**

**So I'm gonna re-write this thing, considering the fact that I was 12 when I first started it…**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review!**


	2. The Coping

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach, I swear! I also do not own the picture used for the cover!**

**Warning: This story has mature content**

**_l.o.s.t._**

**Lost © hitherelovely**

**Bleach © Tite Kubo**

**Chapter 2 – **

_"The Coping"_

**_l.o.s.t._**

_"Do you promise to give up human blood?"_

_Turquoise eyes blinked in surprise and he scoffed in disbelief._

_"Why would I ever do that?"_

_She smiled at him warmly, chocolate eyes full of tenderness._

_"Because I'm human, Shirou-chan."_

**_l.o.s.t._**

It was hard, Toshirou soon realized, waking up. His head felt dizzy and his eyes had trouble focusing—which was a problem, considering the fact that he was a vampire, who typically, have _pretty_ good vision. He groaned. His head was pounding. Just _what_ the hell had Matsumoto put in his drink?

He rolled over on his side with all intent on falling back asleep, until his cheek became wet.

With _blood_.

Jerking awake completely, he leapt to his feet, eyes wide and bloodshot.

The first conscious thought he could come up with was: "Fuck."

The room was completely destroyed, worse than what the last fifty years had worn away. The ceiling was ripped out by what looked suspiciously like his own hands and pieces of the shattered chandelier were strewn across the entire room. Chairs had been upturned and chunks of wood from the table littered the floor.

His brows furrowed in confusion; just what the hell had happened?

And then flashes of memories—uncontrollable bloodlust, killing, and then shredding the area apart.

But it wasn't the fact that he had destroyed the once-beautiful hotel room that upset him.

It was because there was no Momo Hinamori to be found _anywhere_ within the vicinity.

Oh, and the fact that he finally succumbed to his human blood craving after _one hundred_ years "sober" was not really pleasant. He groaned, burrowing his head into his hands. He had caved, completely and utterly and it was not a proud moment. His brows furrowed at the thought of the dream. It was blurry, and he couldn't remember the girl's face—actually, he couldn't remember anything about the girl. It must have been a fragment of his human memory, from years ago. Then again, why would he be talking about drinking blood?

_But humans are stupid,_ he decided, _I didn't go cold turkey for some unknown girl, I did because the Council forbids human blood drinkers…_

His mind drifted away from the dream because the enormity of the sin he had committed just dawned on him, collapsing him like the world on Atlas' shoulders.

He drank human blood.

He drank _human blood_.

Toshirou could still taste the sweetness of her life on his lips. She had beckoned him like no other, the temptation had proved too much and he took a bite from the forbidden fruit. Now he would spend the all of eternity paying for that immorality.

It was like a recovered alcoholic, with all the AA badges and everything, stumbling across a priceless 1964 bottle of Merlot and drinking every last drop. Or like a rehabilitated cocaine user who mysteriously finds crack in their bedroom and smokes it all.

Momo Hinamori was _his_ priceless wine, _his_ addictive drug.

And she was missing, from where he had all but slaughtered her.

**_l.o.s.t._**

A warm breath escaped the brown-eyed girl, visible until it disappeared into the air.

She stumbled through the forest, gasping for breath as she clung to the trunk of a tree. She shivered, freezing in her sneakers and sweater. She'd forgotten a coat that day and cursed herself for it. It was around 30 degrees Fahrenheit outside and well…

Momo had no idea how she was still alive.

All of a sudden, he had stopped feeding on her and it was like she snapped awake, adrenaline coursing and running like a bat out of hell.

Even with the blood loss, she managed to scramble out of the hotel, terrified that he might be chasing her down at any second—that he might just be toying with his food.

But the one time she mustered the courage to look back, he was just standing there. And it might have been a trick of light or maybe she was just hallucinating, but she could have sworn that his cheeks were wet, that his gorgeous eyes were glistening with tears.

She scoffed inwardly at herself. Vampires don't cry. Vampires aren't even real.

And then it started snowing.

Momo gaped, staring at the sky.

"Are you _kidding_ me?"

She didn't know who she was talking to. Obviously, nobody up there was on her side. She bit her lip. Nobody was ever on her side.

Wrapping her thin knit tighter around her, she continued walking. She was pretty sure this was a dream and any second, her obnoxiously loud roommate would barge in and demand food.

Only she didn't seem to be waking up any time soon.

Sighing, Momo kept walking through the forest. She had absolutely no idea where she was but she sure as hell was not going back to that murderer.

No, she would rather die in the forest.

It seemed her dream wasn't far off because soon enough, the snow started falling faster.

Her sneakers were already soaked through and she had lost all feeling in her fingertips. The icy wind tore at her face and her hair and anything it could grasp in it's icy clutch. The trees around her started looming in, like claws reaching for her and then she could hear _his_ voice.

"_Momo…I missed you, my dear_." The deep timbre of his voice couldn't be replicated—but there was no way he was here.

_I must be hallucinating_, she thought. _This isn't real. This isn't possible. He's dead._

But the voice was blatantly _his_. It was sharp, malignant, but like sugar, sweet and beautiful. A dagger dipped in honey.

"_Running away again? You know how I feel about that_."

Her eyes widened as she felt the panic attack rolling in like a tsunami wave. Her heart beat faster, fluttering uncontrollably like a desperate bird trying to free itself out of its cage. Her breathing quickened and the world spun around her because she _just_ couldn't get enough air. Momo abruptly stopped walking, clutching a tree for support and the falling down because the sickening dizziness threatened to drown her.

"No," she whispered, "Not now, no please. Stop."

But the voice continued and she could hear him, clear as day, the same calm voice that spoke when he was talking about the weather, or kicking her, smacking her, and breaking her. Shattering her soul because he said he _loved_ her, that he was _helping_ her, while grabbing her by the throat and slamming her against the wall, throwing her down the stairs. Marring her skin with bruises and scarlet and the lies just kept coming because she couldn't help it—because she'd believed _every_ single word that he'd promised.

Then the tears started coming, like an unrestrained torrent, freezing on her face and Momo couldn't stop them.

Because Aizen was still haunting her.

**_l.o.s.t._**

_She is probably dead,_ a negative voice whispered in his head, _how can any filthy human survive, drained of blood and running through the snow?_

He told that voice to shut the hell up.

Under any other circumstance, he would have probably left Momo alone to die. But the guilt consumed him, it tore at his soul, and ate away at his mind. That girl didn't deserve to die, she didn't do anything wrong, and now she was going to turn into a blood-sucking parasite, just like him. He could at least have the decency to put her out of her misery.

There was a reason, for blood-drinkers, to drain a human body dry.

_Why?_

So that they don't turn, so that they just die, like fallen prey.

But for some idiotic reason, he didn't, he'd simply stopped feeding on her. And he broke his Covenant, which meant that he was screwed. Plus, if the Council didn't kill him for that, then they definitely would once they found out that he had turned a _teenage_ girl.

So either he had to find her and kill her or find her and hide her away for all of eternity.

Neither seemed very promising.

Toshirou stepped outside into the snow, which had already settled quite deeply, and took off sprinting, his lithe figure all but a blur in the white background.

**_l.o.s.t._**

She could see him, smiling at her, beckoning her with his warm eyes, hidden behind thick-framed glasses. His soft brown hair, curling perfectly.

Sousuke, _her_ Sousuke.

That was how she liked to remember him. By his gentle sweet laugh, his comforting hugs, his jazz music in the car rides in the rain.

At time like this, she could forget about the insults, his snapping, the sudden bursts of rage.

His fists.

His screaming.

His lies.

She could forget, if only for a little while, when he smiled at her or patted her hair or called her _his_ Momo-chan.

She could forget it all.

But her therapist told her that she couldn't. That he was a sick sociopath, an abusive monster—that he _deserved_ to die.

Now she was going to die, out here in the cold, freezing.

Oddly, she was okay with it.

Her hazel eyes grew dim.

She was so cold. And sleepy.

Her long eyelashes fluttered, brushing against her ghostly cheeks like a painter's brush kissing a canvas. The last kiss, of red against the white.

She was so tired.

And then she closed her eyes.

**_l.o.s.t._**

It took him an hour to find her, half-buried in the snow. He'd cursed, threw off his trench coat, and wrapped her limp body in it. He placed his ears against her chest, relief flooding his veins as a weak heartbeat sounded.

She was alive. And for a tiny moment, that was the only thing that mattered.

Killing her was entirely forgotten because that ray of hope was all he could think about. The consequences would come later.

Wrapping his scarf around her, he lifted her up easily in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he breathed softly into her hair, white hair falling over his remorseful blue gaze, "I'm so sorry, Momo."

**_l.o.s.t._**

**HOLY COW THAT WAS INTENSE. I was not planning on doing that, but what the heck, right?**

**Thank you so much for reading, guys!**

**Terms That You May Have A Question About:**

**1. Vampire: Self-explanatory. You may also refer to Google. Except mine don't sparkle.**

**2. Council: Coming up in the next chapter, my dears.**

**3. Covenant: Toshiro made a promise not to drink human blood. Obviously, he broke it. You'll find out what happens later(:**

**4. Matsumoto: Yes, I did mention her. I mean, what kind of HitsuHina story doesn't have her meddling with everything?**

**Nagging Questions You May Want Answered:**

**1. Why doesn't Momo change into a vampire?**

** a. All part of something known as the PLOT! Ahaha.**

**2. What made Toshirou attack Momo?**

** a. He a thirsty vampire thou. And the plot.**

**3. Where's the HitsuHina?**

** a. I'M GETTING THERE!**

**4. What's wrong with Momo?**

** a. Aizen happened.**


	3. The Realization

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach, I swear! I also do not own the picture used for the cover!**

**Warning: This story has mature content**

**_l.o.s.t._**

**Lost © hitherelovely**

**Bleach © Tite Kubo**

**Chapter 3 – **

_"The Realization"_

**_l.o.s.t._**

_"Aizen, no. Please, no."_

_She was begging him, curled up against the wall, _begging him_._

_But he wouldn't listen._

_"Come here," he whispered, voice dangerously low as he clutched the baseball bat tighter._

_She shook her head frantically._

_"COME HERE!" He bellowed, brown eyes burning with a fire that she'd never seen before._

_The first time he hit her, he was so remorseful. He'd sobbed, grasped her hands, fell to his knees, and asked for forgiveness, breathing her name over and over again._

_Despite the black eye, Momo ran her fingers through his hair and told him it was okay, that it was just an accident. She was convinced that he was drunk and having a bad day at work. It'll all work out, she promised herself, Sousuke would never hurt me._

_But she was wrong._

_A week after the first punch, he slammed her head against the glass in the mirror._

_Because there was a stain on his shirt._

_A stain._

_Momo had sat there, stunned, as he screamed at her about doing the laundry correctly. Her hair was sticky with blood and her head throbbed painfully. She didn't know what to say, and when he left for work that morning, she packed all her things and was getting ready to leave when he came back with a bouquet of white roses._

_Her favorite. He'd remembered._

_And then he led her gently by the hand into the living room, soft music playing as he danced with her, twirled her around like a princess and whispered sweet lies into her hair. He'd called her beautiful. He said that she was his life, his only reason for living. He'd never said that before._

_She giggled, laughed, took in all the attention. She believed his words, his soft kisses on her cheek, and she forgave him._

_That was when the real beatings began._

_"Momo, if you don't get here, right now, I will kill you. I SWEAR, goddamnit, I will KILL YOU!"_

_Shaking uncontrollably, Momo whimpered and stood up slowly, walking towards her husband._

_"Sousuke, I-I…"_

_He grabbed her by the hair and threw her to the ground like she was nothing more than a rag doll._

_"You slept with him, didn't you, you little whore?" He snapped, glaring at her like she was garbage. And she was, she believed, nothing better than trash._

_Momo flinched from the sudden blow. She could feel another bruise swelling on her knee._

_"No, no, Sousuke, please. I didn't, I-I wouldn't do that to y—"_

_She was abruptly cut off as he slammed the baseball bat across her ribs, knocking the breath out of her. Her head collided painfully against the hard floor and dots filled her vision as she prayed to be knocked unconscious. Breathing became impossible and her wheezes grew raspy. Her entire side stung and burned from where he had struck her._

_"Bitch." He growled, "Don't fucking lie to me." _

_He leaned in and grabbed her by the throat. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. It wasn't even noon yet._

_She started crying, gasping for air as the tears ran down her face._

_"Sousuke, no, I love you," she begged, "I wouldn't do that."_

_But he wouldn't listen. And then he was dragging her by the hair, to the bathroom. As she thrashed and struggled, he filled the tub. And as she pleaded, begged, implored him, he grabbed her by the throat and shoved her under the icy water._

_She writhed and resisted, breathing in the cold water, chilling her bones, choking and wheezing. She fought for air, begging him, grabbing his wrists and pulling. She was going to die, she realized, unless she got air. But he wouldn't stop, he just _wouldn't_ stop. He just sat there, dunking her over and over again, smiling and telling her that he loved her. _

_That he was _cleansing_ her._

_Finally, dear God, _finally_, he pulled her head out of the water. She was gasping, gasping for air and he pulled her quivering body close to his chest and hugged her. She coughed, water perpetrating her lungs as she panted and fought to catch her breath. _

_"I love you, Momo," he whispered, patting her soaking cold hair. _

_"I-I…love you too."_

**_l.o.s.t._**

Toshirou thought that only children got night terrors.

He soon realized he was wrong.

It was the screaming that woke him up, in the middle of the night.

He thought that somebody or something was attacking her but it was her own mind that was entrapping her. Sprinting into the room that she was in, Toshirou threw open the door and leapt to her side.

She was like a wild animal let loose.

Her arms were swinging, and she was screaming, trying to fend off an enemy that wasn't even there.

She was hitting everything, the bed, him, even herself.

She was hurting her own body. There were bruises everywhere, fresh ones, from her own fists.

He narrowed his eyes.

_How long_, he wondered, _how long has she been torturing herself like this?_

Pulling her hands away from each other, he grabbed her and hugged her to his chest, and even as she frantically screamed and thrashed against him, he held her.

He caught a few words from her.

It was mostly incomprehensible mumblngs, but the ones he could make out sounded like…

"Please stop."

His eyes widened.

Who was this imaginary foe that this girl was fighting against?

Toshirou had never felt so useless before in his life. The only thing he could do was stop her from hurting herself. And it hurt. A lot more than he thought a human inflict on him.

When she finally stopped resisting and struggling, he let go of her limbs. Momo looked exhausted, from her fictional battle against some nameless enemy. Her hair was straggly and her face was bleached white. Beads of cold sweat trickled down her face and her lips were blue, despite the warm fire brewing in the fireplace.

Toshirou  
held her, pulling the thick blanket up to her shoulders and whispering comforting words into her hair. He really didn't know what to say so he just recited books that he'd memorized over the years to her.

Poems, stories, literature, all of them he murmured to her. But one, he found, seemed to quiet her troubled soul the second he started uttering it.

_It was many and many a year ago,_  
_In a kingdom by the sea,_  
_That a maiden there lived whom you may know_  
_By the name of Annabel Lee;_  
_And this maiden she lived with no other thought_  
_Than to love and be loved by me._

_I was a child and she was a child,_  
_In this kingdom by the sea;_  
_But we loved with a love that was more than love-_  
_I and my Annabel Lee;_  
_With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven_  
_Coveted her and me._

_And this was the reason that, long ago,_  
_In this kingdom by the sea,_  
_A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling_  
_My beautiful Annabel Lee;_  
_So that her highborn kinsman came_  
_And bore her away from me,_  
_To shut her up in a sepulcher_  
_In this kingdom by the sea._

_The angels, not half so happy in heaven,_  
_Went envying her and me-_  
_Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,_  
_In this kingdom by the sea)_  
_That the wind came out of the cloud by night,_  
_Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee._

_But our love it was stronger by far than the love_  
_Of those who were older than we-_  
_Of many far wiser than we-_  
_And neither the angels in heaven above,_  
_Nor the demons down under the sea,_  
_Can ever dissever my soul from the soul_  
_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee._

_For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams_  
_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_  
_And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes_  
_Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;_  
_And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side_  
_Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,_  
_In the sepulcher there by the sea,_  
_In her tomb by the sounding sea._

As he whispered the last words of _Annabel Lee_ by Poe, Momo seemed more relaxed. Whatever nightmare that had been tormenting her had passed, for now.

And he was grateful for that.

**_l.o.s.t._**

She was warm, she realized. Really warm and comfortable, too.

Momo was puzzled.

Her dorm room certainly was not this soft. She had thin, scratchy blankets on her bunk and these blankets were much too soft.

Ah, she never wanted to wake up.

Unfortunately, this was not to be as she felt her body become more and more alert. Ugh. She hated it when she woke up earlier than she had to be! Besides, her professor had canceled class that day anyways.

Pouting indignantly, Momo burrowed deeper into her pillow. This pillow was weird, it was hard but it was warm. Even more strange, her pillow started moving and chuckling!

"Stop chuckling, pillow," she muttered, eyes still closed, "Pillows are not allowed to chuckle."

Her pillow stopped moving. Instead, it started speaking.

"Is that so…?"

Her pillow had a deep velvety voice.

No, not her _pillow_.

No.

No, no, _no_.

Eyes snapping awake, Momo let out a loud "Eeep!" at the sight that unfolded before her.

She was lying, no, _curled_ up, next to the monster that tried to kill her just the day prior.

Screaming, she scrambled backwards, backing up into the headboard and cursing her own stupidity.

_Good job, Momo. You're gonna die now_, she snapped at herself.

Turquoise eyes gleamed with barely hidden amusement and Toshirou laughed lightly.

"Do you always talk to your pillows?"

Flushing a shocking shade of red, Momo could only squeak in retaliation.

Running a hand through his unruly snow locks, Toshirou grinned somewhat uncharacteristically. It scared her. His teeth looked sharp and pointy and she could've sworn that he was about to eat her.

As if he could read her mind, he laughed.

"No, I'm not about to eat you, silly human."

She gaped indignantly, finally catching her breath.

"What the hell, you bastard?" She snapped back, crossing her arms. She had just woken up on top of the guy who tried to suck all her blood out! If he tried to eat her alive once, why wouldn't he do it again?

He sighed, looking at her somewhat apologetically.

"Yes, about yesterday. I am sorry I lost my control on you, for some reason your blood was very tempting. But even more so, I am curious…" He stared at her like she was a monkey in an experiment, "How are you still human?"

She looked at him like he just spoke in a foreign language.

"_What_?"

He was very patient. "I asked, why are you not a vampire?"

She stared at him for a few moments.

"Um…I didn't know I was supposed to be one…?"

He furrowed his brows and bit his lip. Momo couldn't help but cast her gaze down. Toshirou was beautiful and looked absolutely adorable, chewing on his bottom lip and looking all puzzled and what not.

"Well," he finally announced, "It's a very good thing that you have not turned. It means I don't have to kill you."

"Er, thank you, I guess?"

He laughed again, a wonderful timbre vibrating against his chest.

"Ah, let's have breakfast now, shall we?"

**_l.o.s.t._**

After leading her outside of the room, Toshirou led her up the stairs. Warily, she followed him, grabbing a broken leg of a chair along the way. He didn't seem surprised when she dragged the stake along with her, only snickered silently as they climbed the spiraling staircase onto the next floor.

The second they walked into the second floor, Momo thought they'd transported.

There was no way that this was the same place.

No possible way.

Whereas the previous level was dirty and destroyed, this was new, clean, and absolutely beautiful.

Hints of age-old gothic architecture laced the entire room, with deep, burgundy-colored, gold accented walls and flickering candelabra illuminated the dark hallways. All of the windows were boarded up and drawn shut with thick velvet curtains.

The place reeked of vampires and other undead things.

As gorgeous the top floor was, it was also exquisitely terrifying.

She clutched her wooden stake tighter as Toshirou led her into the kitchen.

"So," he drawled, pulling out a chair at the counter for her, "What would you like for breakfast?"

"I want to go home."

He narrowed his sea-green eyes sharply.

"How about some pancakes instead?"

**_l.o.s.t._**

Staring warily at the heap of pancakes in front of her, the brown-eyed girl suspiciously poked it with her fork.

It looked like pancakes, it smelled like pancakes…but…she cast a cautious look at the vampire seated across from her.

What if he was trying to poison her or something?

Sensing her gaze on him, Toshirou sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He did that a lot, she noticed, when he was frustrated.

"Ignorant human," he snapped, "I will not bloody poison your food. There are much simpler ways to kill you than cowardly adding venom to pancakes, mind you."

She stared blankly at him before slowly stabbing her pancakes. Was that a hint of the British accent or were her ears playing a trick on her? Well, he did say bloody a lot, but that could just be a vampire thing.

Her stomach then decided that it would be a good time to release probably one of the loudest noises a tummy should never make.

Toshirou jumped, startled, and then stared at her with wide eyes.

"What manner of beast are you?" He sounded so completely shocked and deplored, that Momo couldn't help but laugh.

"A hungry one," she responded, shoving a forceful of pancakes into her face. He looked away, disgusted, before rising and heading to the fridge. Happily munching on her pancakes, Momo failed to notice as he brought a wine bottle to the counter.

Flinching abruptly at the sound of glass, chocolate eyes froze as she watched him pour dark amber liquid into a clear teacup.

Aizen always liked to drink in the mornings.

Momo slid off the chair slowly and backed up.

Flashes of memory, Aizen smiling and then having a few beers and lunging for her. She curled up on the floor, blocking her head like she always did when he started swinging. When he got drunk enough though, really drunk, that was when the problems began. Memories that she had tried so hard to suppress were rising, like corpses floating to the surface.

Her breaths came in raspy pants as the all-too-familiar panic attack threatened to drown her.

It was the whimper that drew his attention. Toshirou brought the glass up to his lips, before furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. Momo was sitting on the floor, her hands were knotted up in her hair and she was pale. She was looking at him like he betrayed her, the gaze of the tormented gleaming in her hazel orbs.

No—she wasn't looking at _him_, she was looking at the glass in his hands.

And suddenly, it clicked.

"No, Momo, no," he said softly, kneeling down and reaching for her, "This isn't wine, I swear, it isn't alcohol."

She shook her head.

Grabbing the glass, he brought it to her nose and wasn't surprised when she flinched away from the sharp scent of iron.

"It's blood, animal blood, love," he promised, talking to her like he would to a cornered beast, "I don't drink, honestly, I don't."

After a couple moments, her panic attack ceased and her breathing slowly evened as she was brought back to the real world, away from Aizen and his sickening lies.

Momo stood up uncertainly and Toshirou watched her warily, wondering if she was going to lose it again.

The tension clouded the room, obscuring her view.

Finally, she broke the silence.

"I…I'm not really hungry anymore. Thank you for the meal." She murmured, sounding broken.

He slowly and gently grabbed her hand.

"Let's get you cleaned up, alright?"

She nodded numbly and followed him.

**_l.o.s.t._**

Momo sat, curled up in the foamy water.

After realizing that she had a full-blown panic attack in the kitchen floor, she wanted to drown herself.

Her therapist had cleared her months ago. She wasn't even on any anti-depressants anymore. Why were the memories coming back? Why was _he_ coming back?

_Why can't you just leave me alone?_ She thought bitterly, pulling her knees up to her chest.

Grabbing a sponge, she set to work cleaning herself, sighing in bliss as the dirt from trekking outside was scrubbed off. She doused her long dark locks with some sort of rose shampoo and washed her hair.

After she was done, she stepped out of the tub and reached for a thick white towel. Wrapping it around herself, Momo grabbed for her clothes.

Only to realize that they were missing.

Why were they missing? She could've _sworn_ she left them right there on the counter.

Blushing, she despaired inwardly. Oh, he probably thought she was a freak, losing her mind on his kitchen floor and now heading back into his room in nothing more than a towel.

But maybe, if she was quiet enough, she could sneak past him, grab her stuff, and run back to the bathroom before he noticed.

_Yes_, she decided unwaveringly, _that's what I'll do_.

Slowly creeping open the door, Momo stepped outside of the bathroom, looking side to side down the hall before dashing towards his room, which he had shown her before leading her into the bathroom, clutching the top of her towel like her life depended on it.

Barging into the bedroom, she spotted her jeans and sweater, lying on top of what looked like a laundry basket. Before she could snatch them though, Toshirou poked his snowy head out of the closet.

"Oh, you're done already?" He asked, talking normally, like she wasn't only wearing a towel, "Most females take longer so I just assumed…" he trailed off, pulling something off of a hanger and handing it to her. "Here," he said, gesturing to the dress, "Try this on."

Momo took it with shaking fingers and set it down on the bed. She stood, blushing and looking down at the ground.

Silence fell.

Toshirou arched an eyebrow.

"Well? Are you going to try it on or not?"

She looked at him like he was insane.

"Are you crazy?" She yelped, "Get _out_!"

Toshiro scoffed indignantly. "What a disagreeable person you are! I've been alive for a hundred years, my love. I've seen _many_ things. One more won't be too life-changing, I can assure you of that."

She shook her head and crossed her arms. He rolled his eyes and finally relented when he saw her shake slightly from the cold.

"Oh, fine. You win. Happy now?" He taunted as he walked outside the bedroom, closing the door as he went.

Quickly dropping the towel, Momo flushed from utter mortification as she saw what he had placed beside the dress. A white bra and panties. She gaped as she saw that he had gotten the size right. There was no way he was _that_ experienced, right?

Grumbling, she put on the clothes and slipped the dress over her head. She blinked in surprise. It fit perfectly. It was black and simply, with short sleeves and stopped just above her knees.

She frowned. Why couldn't he have just handed her a t-shirt and some jeans? If she wanted to get away, a dress would be quite hard to maneuver in.

Then, a knock on the door.

A snowy head poked through.

"Have you finished?"

"Yes."

"Come on then, I have questions."

Momo frowned as she followed him out the door.

"I think _I'm_ the one with the questions."

**_l.o.s.t._**

**I'm not really feeling this chapter, but anyways, feel free to let me know what you think!**

**Thanks for reading, guys!**

**And hold your questions! The next chapter is going to be a bit boring but it will answer them. **


	4. The Dawning

**If you are subscribed to this story, GO BACK AND READ THE LAST THREE CHAPTERS! I have re-written ****_everything_**** so if you read from this chapter, you will be utterly confused.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Bleach, I swear! I also do not own the picture used for the cover!**

**Warning: This story has mature content**

**_l.o.s.t._**

**Lost © hitherelovely**

**Bleach © Tite Kubo**

**Chapter 4 – **

_"The Dawning"_

**_l.o.s.t._**

"Are you British?"

Toshirou almost choked on his sip of blood.

"Am I _what_?"

Momo frowned at him and repeated her question, "_I said_—are you British?"

He stared at her in shock.

"Why the hell would you waste your question on something so trivial?"

She shrugged. "You say "bloody" a lot and it seems there's a hint of an accent on you, so I just want to know."

Toshiro sighed. What was wrong with this girl? One second, she's normal, another second, she's got some psychological scarring and now she has ADD as well?

"No," he said slowly, sarcastically, "I am _not_ British. I did spend some time in London, however, many years back."

"How many years—" She began, but he cut her off, shaking his pointer finger disapprovingly, eyebrow raised in mock admonishment. "Ah, ah, ah. We made a deal, remember? My turn."

As he brought her into the living room, they struck a deal. She would ask a question, he would answer it. So on and so forth.

Toshirou narrowed his icy eyes. Yes, they were icy now, she realized, after he started sipping on the animal blood. They had been darkening over the past few days, the darkest she had ever seen them was when he first met her—they were almost black then. Did this mean that when he was hungry, his eyes grew darker?

Toshirou cleared his throat.

"Do you have any idea why you did not turn?"

Momo rolled her eyes. _This again_.

"No idea," she piped, "Maybe it's a delayed reaction or something." Toshirou scoffed.

"There's no such thing as a delayed reaction," he grumbled, "Not when it comes to turning." He crossed his arms and gestured for her to ask something else.

"So, are you going to kill me?"

She seemed so carefree when she asked that, he noticed, like she didn't care either way.

It scared him, just a little, that she cared so minutely about her life.

"No, I am _not_ going to kill you." He stared at her, promising her, "The first time…It was a slip-up. It has been almost a hundred years since I drank human blood, ninety-six, to be exact. Your scent was just intoxicating and I came here to clear my head because I'd been having terrible blood cravings these past few days. I thought that if I could just…get away from it all, then I could go back and be fine." He laughed bitterly. "Of course, just my luck that a Given stumbles across my path."

Forgetting completely that it wasn't her turn, Momo blurted out, "What's a Given?"

Toshirou set his glass down and leaned back against the chair, not knowing to be surprised or amused by her ignorance. Then again, that's what you get when you don't associate with the human race for fifty years…

"Well," he began, "A Given is an irresistible human. For every vampire, there is one specific type of human with a specific scent. Givens can be different races, genders, personalities, whatever, it doesn't matter. They're just so tempting because they smell delicious," he explained.

Momo resisted the urge to sound sarcastic. It didn't work.

"So…I'm like your favorite kind of food?"

He barked out a laugh.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that."

Momo furrowed her brows.

"But what's to say you won't attack me again?"

Toshirou grinned devilishly and a hint of mischief gleamed in his eyes. He seemed more playful, happier, almost, after drinking the blood. "What's to say I won't?"

Momo gulped and shuffled backwards slightly.

"Anyways," he began, "What was that panic attack about, back in the kitchen this morning?"

Obviously, that was not an okay question to ask and Toshirou cursed himself as he saw Momo stiffen and blanch.

_Hide from humans for a couple decades and you forget how sensitive they are_, he griped.

Fidgeting with the hem of her dress, Momo took in a shark intake of breath.

"I…I was married once, to a very bad man. He used to drink. A lot." she added, her voice low, "And sometimes…he would get very violent." Her voice had dropped down to nothing more than a whisper.

It was obvious that she was uncomfortable, but Toshirou pressed on.

"Aren't you a little young to be married?"

Momo smiled slightly. A fake smile, used to fool people who ask 'how are you' and 'how are you feeling'. Toshirou wasn't one of those people.

"He was ten years older than me. I was sixteen at the time, runaway rebellious teen and all. We eloped and moved outside of the city. My parents…died when I was younger and my Nii-san took care of me. Unfortunately, I didn't listen to him until it was too late."

Toshirou blinked. "You're Japanese?" She hadn't realized that she'd said 'brother' in her native language.

Momo nodded.

"Toshirou, why don't you drink human blood?" Momo suddenly asked. Toshirou, startled by her question, almost dropped his cup.

"Well…" he struggled to make up a lie. Humans could not know about the existence of the Council. The fact that she knew about vampires and was _not_ dead was already breaking a multitude of rules.

"I prefer to live in harmony with humans," he answered smoothly. The truth was, to be on the Council meant that he could not drink human blood. And being a fairly young vampire, he could often not control his thirst as well as his older counterparts.

Not that Momo needed to know that.

And on and on it continued. Momo would fire a question and Toshirou would answer effortlessly. The latter would pry into her private life and Momo would give a vague answer. Both wary, cautious, unwilling and unable to trust. By the time the sun set, it had come down to this:

"Can garlic ward off vampires?"

"Myth."

"Why don't you sparkle?"

"Because this is real life. I feel sorry for poor Edmund."

"It's Ed_ward_."

"…Oh."

"How old are you, Hinamori?"

"Nineteen. What about you?"

"Ha, oh one-hundred twenty one this year, I believe."

"Gross…"

By the end of the questioning, when both parties started running out of questions, Momo realized something.

He'd stopped calling her Momo. It was just Hinamori now.

For some reason, it stung, just a little.

**_l.o.s.t._**

It was late by now. Momo had been so absorbed in their fierce questioning that she didn't realize when the sun had been replaced by the moon. Toshirou stood up and stretched languidly, like a cat. He sighed and muttered something about getting more blood before shuffling lazily out of the room.

The fire had grew dim in the fireplace; nothing more than a few flickering embers existed now. Shivering, Momo walked over and started poking at the coals with a steel stick. The fire resisted being awakened, too tired to be set aflame again. Momo sighed; looks like she'd have to pester Toshirou about firewood to ward off hypothermia. Damn vampires and their freaking immunity to practically everything.

The brown-eyed girl blinked. She had learned so much that day. For starters, all the fantasy and fiction was real. There were actually vampires. And Toshirou didn't eat humans. She laughed inwardly at that; he was like a "good" vampire. And all the bull-crap about vampires was fake too; they could eat garlic and frolic around outside like ponies if they wanted to.

But there was one question that he had avoided completely. Sure, he'd roll his eyes or do his little scoff thing when she asked something stupid, but he never ignored a question _completely_.

_"Toshirou, why can't I go home?"_

_It was an innocent enough question and she was sure her brother would've called the police by now. She'd been missing for two whole days already; he was bound to be worried._

_The white-haired vampire didn't say a word. He just stiffened and shook his head._

_She looked at him in confusion._

_"Toshirou? Why can't I…"_

_"Because they'll kill you."_

_"Who's they?"_

_"Just ask something else, Hinamori." He snapped abruptly. Bewildered and a little scared, Momo relented._

_That's when he started calling me Hinamori, _Momo realized.

Something had set him off…and she had no idea what it was. Yawning loudly, Momo turned around to head back to the bedroom. She was tired and still a little sore from her trek through the woods. She had no idea how long she was going to have to stay here, so she might as well get used to it. But maybe if she could get away from him long enough to reach a phone, or civilization…

Shaking her head of her escape thoughts, _for now_, she promised, Momo walked out of the door and into the dark hallway.

_That's weird_, she thought, noticing how dim the candelabras were, _I could've sworn it was brighter earlier…_

Something was wrong, she realized it as soon as she stepped out of the door, like a predator was circling her, a lion getting ready to pounce on the lamb. She had felt like this before, right before Toshirou attacked her.

Her heart beat faster and she willed herself not to scream. Backing up slowly into the room, she grabbed a metal poker from the fireplace. Every nerve in her body was tensed, every muscle. She knew that something was about to happen but she didn't know what. She gripped the handle tighter. Uneasiness coiled in her stomach and the room was thick with tension.

She wondered if Toshirou had lied to her, about drinking human blood, that he was just waiting until her guard was down until he killed her.

Momo shivered. _Well_, she decided firmly, _I'm not going down without a fight. _

Suddenly, all hell broke loose.

The windows, once boarded up, shattered, raining glass down on her. Ducking and screaming, Momo curled up into a ball. The candles flickered and flared in the room before being extinguished by an unknown breath.

Panting and wheezing, Momo clutched the fire poker like her life depended on it.

"S-stop!" She gasped, standing up. "If you're gonna kill me, I'd appreciate it if you did it quickly, Toshirou." She snapped, glaring into the darkness.

She never really was one for theatrics.

But the malicious chuckling that resounded around the room was definitely _not_ Toshirou.

Her heart stopped.

As her weak human eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Momo froze.

There, surrounding her, were three wolves.

Three giant, enormous wolves, each easily the size of a small car. They paced back and forth around her, their long tails swishing noisily behind them. She would have thought they were beautiful, with their beckoning eyes and sleek fur, were they not out to kill her.

"She's the one," one of them whispered, "She's the _Marked_." The other two were quick to follow.

_Marked? What the hell is a marked?_ She thought indignantly.

"S-stay back," she said, trying to sound confident but failing miserably as her voice wavered despite her best efforts. Swinging the stick around at them, she backed up into the wall.

She scowled; it seemed like Toshirou had failed to educate her on the principles of werewolves—like how to kill them. Or at the very least, their weaknesses.

The largest wolf suddenly lunged forward.

Shrieking, Momo ducked and covered, forgetting completely about her weapon and cursing when it slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.

"Do you know why your little blood-sucking friend won't let you out of this hotel?" The oversized dog snapped, his long canines right by her ear. She could feel his moist, disgusting breath roll onto her neck and resisted to urge to throw up.

Flinching back, Momo stuttered, "N-no", still blocking her head with her arms.

"It's because you can't be turned, because you're _Marked_. He's just using you, you know. The little leech is going to bleed you dry in the end—when he's done with you."

Momo looked up in surprise, "Marked with what?"

The wolf laughed as if she was joking. It was uncanny, she decided, seeing a wolf laugh. His shoulders were moving up and down, like a human's, but he was a dog.

"The _Angel_, my dear," He said softly, like she could understand what he was saying, "Try to escape this dreaded hotel on the full moon coming in three days," he grinned, "And I will help you return home and explain _just_ what you are."

Turning to his companions, he barked, "Move out!"

Silently, they leapt out of the shattered windows, evaporating into thin air as fast as they had appeared and the wolf turned to her, its cold blue irises boring into her.

"It's Grimmjow, by the way."

And then he was gone.

Suddenly, all the candles came roaring back to life and she was panting curled up in a ball, exhaustion overwhelming her.

_What just happened?_ She wondered, slowly unclenching her fists.

The door slammed open as Toshirou came back in. The front of his crisp white shirt was stained with blood and was ripped with holes.

"Werewolves," he sneered.

His blue gaze suddenly turned worried.

"Did they hurt you?"

When she didn't respond, he lifted her up easily, like she weighed nothing more than a pound, and inspected her carefully. She struggled weakly.

"Put me down, I'm okay." She snapped sharply.

A little hurt, he didn't let it show as he did as he was told.

She gave a cursory glance over him; he seemed fine—there were no wounds on him. But where did the blood come from…?

"Oh this?" He gestured to his shirt, "This isn't mine."

He thought that would reassure her, but it didn't. Instead, she just blanched.

"Oh…okay." She mumbled, "I'm tired, _Hitsugaya-san_, I think I'll go to bed."

Toshirou watched with wary eyes as she detached herself from him and walked down the hallway, back to the bedroom. She closed the door and locked it.

Just what did those wolves say to her?

**_l.o.s.t._**

The next couple of days passed by in monotony. Momo would wake up, bathe, and dress. Then she'd eat breakfast, _without_ Toshirou, and wander around the hotel looking for stuff to do. Most of the time, like now, it ended with her wandering into the library and reading. Toshirou had an impressive collection of Edgar Allen Poe, that was for sure. But the tension in the entire building was so palpable, it was impossible to escape, no matter which room she fled into.

Something had happened. A betrayal of trust. Grimmjow's words rang in her head, every time she saw a flash of white disappear into the hallway, or a worn book left open on a table.

_He's just using you, you know. _

Whenever she tried to reach out to him, she stopped.

_The little leech is going to bleed you dry in the end—when he's done with you._

But…what if Toshirou _knew_?

What if he knew what Grimmjow said to her, but he was playing with her, tricking with her mind?

Would he kill her, if she tried to flee to the wolf pack?

_Oh this blood? It isn't mine._

He sounded so nonchalant, like killing others didn't matter to him, like their lives were so insignificant compared to his eternity.

It sickened her.

Momo wanted to scream. The full moon was tonight; she'd watched with a heavy heart as the moon became just a little more full each night for the past three days. Insomnia plagued her and it showed through on her health. Every morning, she'd wake up, bleary-eyed and pale, looming shadows dancing underneath her eyes.

She wondered if Toshirou noticed.

She wondered if Toshirou _cared_.

_Probably not_, she snapped bitterly, _he's just using me. Is what Grimmjow said true? About me being "marked" or whatever?_

She buried her head into the book she had open on the table.

_The Raven_ by Poe.

She scoffed. Toshirou sure had a thing for this guy.

She flipped open the next page and stopped abruptly.

There was a folded-up piece of paper, tucked into the spine of the book.

Curious and a little hesitant, Momo pulled out the scrap. Unraveling it, her eyes widened in surprise.

It was a map of the _Lovely Night_. An old, tattered map with chunks missing. She wouldn't need it of course, she'd already explored most of the rooms while Toshirou was off doing who knows what.

But there was a highlighted route that she had never been in.

To be more specific, an escape route.

She gaped.

It lead from the library, downstairs, then across some sort of ravine, right into _Werewolf Territory_, which was marked out with a red X.

_What should I do_, she wondered, _what should I do?_

**_l.o.s.t._**

**And that's chapter 4! **

**I know it's been a while, but HAPPY THANKSGIVING! I hope you guys eat tons of turkey! **

**Sorry for any grammar mistakes, guys, but I was just really excited to get this chapter out!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Please review(:**


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